


both flash blue.

by orphan_account



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: M/M, Mutual Pining, canonverse, resolved junk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-01
Updated: 2015-06-01
Packaged: 2018-04-02 08:49:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4053937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The time was never right.</p><p>
  <em>And he was guilty for it.</em>
</p><p> (Day 1 of Ereri Week: Pining)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Levi

**Author's Note:**

> This is honestly very short and more of a drabble than anything else, but I wrote it about a month ago for this, and I still sort of like it. So I'm going to use it, haha.

His words have always been like the sea. 

And you can't help but to marvel at the many ways they can pick you apart, pull you under until the only warmth you feel is the burning in your lungs— _drowning, asphyxiating._ Your foot caught in the riptide, dragging you to open waters—dangerous territory where your heart beats faster. 

You say that he has always been like the rain.

And you suppose that's true—dampening, weighing you down with inconsequential thoughts of brown sugar skin and eyes like rippling water that should never come to the light of day—should not come out of the strong gale of rough wind and falling droplets. 

All you know, is that you want him. 

So you restrict yourself—keep your rough hands stiff at your sides, _shaking, dying_ with the effort it takes not to reach out—not to tuck the small strand of hair behind his ear as it shifts minutely with the breeze. 

You _want to so badly_ —

But you cannot. 

He has his whole life ahead of him. 

He is 19. 

You are not.

He is the first light of the sunrise. 

You are the dark shade of midnight. 

He is the feeling of warm hands along your sides—fingers digging into the fabric, a rough caress. 

You are simply callous. 

But he is not. 

And you _have accepted this many times over so why the fuck does it make you want to try for him—_

Can he not see?

His smile is infectious— _contagious, electric._

You do not smile in return. 

— _though you want to._


	2. Eren

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _He is the heated strike of lightning mid-night—the noise that shakes you to the marrow of bones but illuminates green eyes brighter than any candle ever could._

To you, he is electricity—the vibrations beneath your fingertips, from a minuscule touch caused by miscalculation. 

He is the heated strike of lightning mid-night—the noise that shakes you to the marrow of bones but illuminates green eyes brighter than any candle ever could. 

He is the burning blue hue of a fire melting steel before it cools to solidify dark grey. 

He is rough around the edges in the eye of some, but you—you only see beyond the marred surface. 

He is elegance—precision.

You are not. 

You are 19, with smooth skin and an unchanging outlook. 

He seems so timeless.

_Classic._

—with the occasional upward curve of lips that seem broken. 

—with the flash of amusement in dark eyes, like lightning. 

You wish for him to smile in return.

He does not. 

You can't say that you're surprised, _not really._

* * *

You are so unaware, acting such a child—having no idea that he wants to bury his face in your neck, arms around you, _grasping anywhere that he can reach because he's so fucking desperate—_

He says nothing. You don't dare thinking to. 

It's a mutual sort of thing, that neither of you realize till one night—when everything crashes down, leaving you both breathless. 

You can't even find it within yourself to remember why you had been arguing—can't _think because his arms are around you and his breath is shaking and his arms are so tight around your waist that you think your airways may be collapsing—_

And then he speaks—voice cracking, eyes heavy, not with lust but worry. They're spinning, just like your center of gravity in this moment—and you are hopelessly lost. 

_'You're a fucking idiot. Be careful. I can't— can't...'_

And when he trails off, you don't consider anything beyond that moment.

He truly is electricity—and you are the crashing waves. 

His hands are rough and broken, like his lips. 

_You don't care—don't even think twice._

He tastes of bitter tea and salty rain—like a heady liquor you find that you want burning your throat, if it means this moment can continue.

You never could hold your liquor.

* * *

_'Hey, Levi?'_

_'Yeah?'_

_'Both the sea and ocean flash blue, y'know?'_

_'I suppose they do.'_


End file.
